On the Cusp of a Bright and Shining Tomorrow
by ilovetvalot
Summary: David Rossi's thoughts on one of the most pivotal days of his life.


_**Author's Note:**__ Hello Readers! We would like to encourage each reader and author alike to participate in nominating their favorite fics and authors for the second annual "Profiler's Choice CM Awards 2011__**! The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can each be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" Forum. To reach that post, please either take a trip to the forum itself OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, tonnie2001969, OR Profiler's Choice CM Awards.**__ Nomination ballots should be pm'd to Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or through the profile pages listed above. We look forward to hearing from each of you!_

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**Author's Note 2: This story is dedicated to SunnyinOregon!**

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**On the Cusp of a Bright and Shining Tomorrow**

He lifted her veil and gave her a cool kiss on the cheek as he desperately tried to control his trembling chin.

"Papa," Abigail Rossi said softly, her eyes softening as she watched a clear tear roll down her beloved father's whiskered face, "You promised you wouldn't," she reminded him gently, lifting a hand to catch the small drop against her thumb. "This is what I want," she assured the stone faced man adamantly.

Smoothing the antique lace veil her mother had once worn back over his only daughter's shoulders, Dave shook his head. "You don't have to do this, you know," he murmured, his voice as rough as his hands were gentle when he cupped her cheeks, staring deeply into his daughter's eyes.

"I know that," she said softly, smiling as she watched her father's eyes darken. "But I want to, Papa."

"He's not good enough for you," Rossi replied briskly, squaring his shoulders as he forced himself to let go of his little girl, his fingers clenching as he dropped his hand back to his side.

"He's your godson," Abby laughed, amused at her dad's statement. The only person prouder of her future husband was his own father. She knew that, and so did her father.

"So?" Rossi muttered gruffly, shrugging his broad shoulders as his heart clenched when the sunlight bounced off his daughter's veil. Lord in heaven, she looked so much like her mother!

"Daddy, Jack is a good man. You know that." Abby smiled as she shifted her bouquet in her hands. "He's good for me...to me."

"He better be," Dave retorted, shoving his hands into his tuxedo trouser pockets as he met his daughter's eyes again. "Being my godson won't stop me from killing him if he hurts you." He tried not to keep his stern expression in place as his daughter rolled her sapphire eyes, so much like her mother's that it broke his heart.

"You helped raise him, Dad. You and mom," she stated, arching one brow as she met her father's gaze. Obstinate, thy name is David Rossi. How many times had she heard her mother say that in her twenty-three years? And her much loved papa was proving the quality again in spades, just as her mom had predicted. "Do you really think he's capable of hurting me?"

"Brat," he grumbled, knowing his daughter had him there. But should he have expected anything less? "Your mother told you what arguments to make, didn't she?" he challenged.

"Maybe," Abby chuckled behind her veil as she reached to straighten her father's tie.

"What have I told you about taking pointers from your mama?" Dave huffed, blinking back the moisture from his eyes once again. Damn, he was a watering pot. Wasn't that the job of the mother of the bride?

"Tag teaming an old man is unfair," Abby recited obediently. "But, oh, so effective," she added as she winked, her eyes sparkling with joy.

Swallowing hard at the sheer happiness he saw reflected in his baby's bright blue eyes, Dave inhaled deeply. "Jack Hotchner is a lucky man, Abigail. You make sure you remind him of that every day of your life," he whispered as a swell of music distantly echoed from the church's sanctuary.

"No luckier than me," Abby remarked quietly, spinning slightly on her ballet slipper as she slid her hand around his elbow. "Besides, we've both had wonderful examples to learn from. Uncle Aaron and Aunt Emily...you and mom...even if it did take you four tries to get it right," Abigail teased mischievously.

"Hey," Dave yelped indignantly as Abigail tugged at his arm and aimed them toward the door, "Honor thy father, Daughter," he chastised through his laughter.

"Always, Papa," Abby whispered, taking a moment and leaning her head against her daddy's shoulder as she waited for their cue to enter the main body of the church. "It's almost time," she breathed.

"Yeah," Rossi said hoarsely, his throat clogged with emotion. God, let me have the strength to do this one last task for his baby girl, he prayed. "It is."

"My first great love is giving me over to the love of my life," Abby murmured softly, her hand tightening around her dad's strong arm. "It's a really good day, Papa."

Hearing the familiar first strains of the Wedding March begin, Dave turned his head to give his only daughter one long last lingering look. "The only thing I've ever wanted for you is love, Abigail Rose," he choked.

"Then take me to it, Daddy," Abby replied breathlessly. "Because it's waiting at the altar."

Nodding once, David Rossi lifted his chin and stiffened his spine, his final duty as her father upon him. And with a first faltering step, he let out a deep sigh as he guided his daughter toward her future.

_**Finis**_


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